


Chalice

by FreezePride



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Dark Magic, Gen, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Mad Scientists, Magic, Vampire AU, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-16 15:19:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezePride/pseuds/FreezePride
Summary: A Chalice is a symbiotic union, a promise between vampire and human. The vampire is ensured a source of sustenance for all time, and the human is promised power beyond their wildest dreams. They are bound together for an eternity. When Lord Riddle offers to make Harry his chalice, how could Harry possibly accept? But when Lord Riddle assures him that all of Harry’s remaining friends will be spared and protected from the opposing forces that seek to destroy them completely, how could Harry possibly refuse?





	1. An Unexpected Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing roleplay story that myself (https://riddlemostpowerful.tumblr.com/) and my brilliant buddy (https://i-cant-be-a-wizard.tumblr.com/). She's also known as TwistingShadows here on AO3. 
> 
> Thanks so much for taking an interest in our little story. I hope you enjoy it. I would be very honored if you left comments and kudos for us, but if not, I still appreciate you taking the time to read our story. Thanks again. :)

Harry possessed power.

This was a fact that Tom was quite well acquainted with. Harry’s power was subtle, but strong. Where one might brag of their strength and skill in combat, Harry kept his carefully away from the public eye, almost as though he had no idea it even existed. Others could sense it from him. Others were attracted to it, drawn to it like a moth to flame. But Tom was certain, now more than ever, that he needed to possess it.

If he was not careful, that hidden power could be used against him.

It was after years of watching the boy, years of gathering information, piece by piece that made Tom realize that Harry had not only possessed this power for ages, he had been ignoring it and suppressing it. Those around him even seemed to dismiss him completely, only recognizing his name, his history and not his true potential. His mentors thought he needed to be cared for like a child. His friends had grown dulled to claims of him sensing darkness around him, and his warnings of oncoming attacks. Even his supposed ‘rivals’ had no idea the sort of magical abilities the boy could truly wield. 

_Such a waste of talent. I shall remedy this…_

It was precisely midnight when Tom knocked politely at the plain wooden door to Harry’s unassuming little apartment in the sleepy end of London, once, twice, three times, before he stepped back on his doorstep and waited.

\--

Harry was cursed. 

He had grown used to it by now, but the fact still remained. No matter what he did, however he tried to remedy his situation, fate always seemed to pull the rug out from under him at the very last minute. The only things that kept him from ending it all were his friends and the hope that tomorrow would be better. It never was, but he clung desperately to the possibility that things would change. For him, even the smallest victories were victories. 

But even those minute successes couldn’t stop the nightmares that plagued him every time he closed his eyes. The death of his parents was the worst. He would find himself jolting awake, covered in sweat. Vampires, they said. A secret coven, lurking right under their noses. Many had tried to uncover the true nature of the coven, but to no avail. Every time someone got close to a revelation, the death count would rise. Harry tried his best to stay out of it all, live as much under the radar as one could with his reputation, but he couldn’t help but warn others when he could feel the darkness the coven seemed to carry setting in. It was, after all, the result of his reputation. 

He had been told he was lucky. That he had escaped death that night. It was celebrated as if it was some grand miracle, to survive a vampire attack. Harry didn’t feel lucky. 

It was the knock on his door that pulled him from the nightmare that night. He grumbled as he dragged himself out of bed. As grateful as he was, he didn’t enjoy being woken up at such an hour. Snatching his glasses from his bedside table, he groggily made his way to the door.

\--

The door opened. 

Frankly, Tom had not been expecting this. He had expected questioning, horror, hostility, or at least something resembling fear. As far as the ‘vampire legend’ went, there was supposedly no way that he could enter without Harry opening the doors of his abode to him. According to the aforementioned legend, even the great Lord Riddle was bound to the precepts and magical law of the immortal and eternal.

But Harry had  _already_  opened his doors to him, at the slightest prompting Tom could have ever hoped for. A slow smile spread across his pale face as he peered down at the young man. “ _Oh, Harry_.” He seemed to savor the name as though tasting some fine and delicate wine. He let those soft words settle between them before moving fluidly, easily into Harry’s abode. There was something wicked burning within his eyes that seemed predatory.

The small home itself was quaint, small and sparse, but with a lived in quality to it. There were dirty dishes in the sink (the clear sign of a bachelor), a few shirts and bits of clothing strewn about, but nothing overwhelmingly dirty to make it unlivable. A pristine white Snowy Owl hooted softly within its cage from the corner of Harry’s tiny kitchen, as though surprised to find a guest now wandering about this place. Tom tilted his head as he considered the creature, and watched as it tilted its head right back as though mimicking him. He laughed softly as he considered the myriad ways he could kill the creature later, before turning back to his unwilling host and taking in the full sight of him as he stood there blinking blearily in the dark. 

Harry was a short lad in comparison to Riddle, and his nineteen years had not been gracious when it came to endowing him with a muscular physique. But there was something about his slender build that seemed functional, and in extension, beautiful. Tom couldn’t help but note that he smelled absolutely exquisite. In these close quarters, there was something about him that seemed to glow alluringly even in the complete darkness that surrounded them. 

“Harry, do you have any idea who I am?” He asked softly.

\--

He opened the door.

Still half-asleep, Harry’s brain didn’t even register that letting a complete stranger into his apartment in the middle of the night might not be such a good idea. He yawned as the stranger entered, wearily blinking away sleep. If he had been more awake, more aware of the situation, he would have been significantly more on guard. For all he knew, this could be one of the vampires from the coven that continued to ruin his life. But between a long day and a restless night so far, he was completely defenseless in his tired state.

Harry managed to blink the remnants of sleep away at the same time the stranger called his name. Of course, it wasn’t so much a call as a croon. It was said so beautifully, the words sounding like sin tumbling from his lips. Harry shivered when the words reached his ears, his world going silent for a fraction of a moment. Then the moment passed, and everything was as it should be, although the weight of the stranger’s words still lingered in the air.

It was then that Harry finally took a chance to look at his unexpected company. He was incredibly handsome and dressed like nobility, making him seem out of place in Harry’s dingy flat. The man didn’t look to be too significantly older than him, but there was a certain aura he carried, alerting Harry that he was much older than he appeared. And that he was much more than what he seemed. If the aura didn’t give it away, his eyes certainly did; a deep, rich, blood red. There was something predatory about his eyes, as if Harry could expect to be swallowed up by his gaze at any moment. Harry gulped silently, taking a small step away from the man.

Hedwig seemed to puff up at the stranger’s sudden appearance, hooting softly and tilting her head in both curiosity and fear. It was as if she could sense that there was something not quite right about the man Harry had make the mistake of letting into his dwelling. Her yellow eyes narrowed in distrust. Hearing her hooting, Harry looked over to his pet, noticing her agitation.

His eyes flicked back to the man in front of him. Slowly, he shook his head. “Sorry, but no. I don’t know who you are. But I have a feeling I know  _what_.”

\--

_Interesting_. His ‘keepers’ had never bothered to tell the young lad exactly what his assailant had looked like all those years ago, and perhaps not even what powers he was capable of. The mysterious and deadly Lord Riddle had done his damnedest to keep control of London, as both a coven leader as well as a skilled magic user, but his reputation was hard to pin down with all of the rumors that tended to surface around him.   
  
One fact had always seemed to string all of the stories together into a single truth. Lord Riddle, the immortal and eternal leader of the Death Eater coven, had brilliant red eyes, a beautiful face, and a merciless attitude.    
  
Tom’s looks, of course, were nothing like Harry’s though. Harry seemed to be brimming with color, life and energy, even despite his current sluggish state. Where Tom had a cold, pristine beauty about him, as though shaped from porcelain, Harry’s seemed to be sporting an entire rainbow of colors. His skin was a warm, light tan, his cheeks flushed, his eyes glimmering a brilliantly verdant shade of green. He was quite the work of art, an impressionist masterpiece, even while barely awake, and barely functioning.   
  
“Well, that’s certainly a start.” Tom replied to his host finally with a good natured smile. Magic crackled at his fingertips as he snapped his fingers. The tea pot sitting on the stove jumped to life, screeching as though it had been boiling for ages. Tom made a curt motion with his hand and a teapot slid from the high shelf and floated down, accompanied by two ceramic mugs. “All you have is black tea?” Tom muttered, rummaging through Harry’s spice drawer before sighing in defeat and bringing it over to the teapot to make them something warm to sip.   
  
“Sit down, Harry. We have a great deal to discuss.” He murmured, pouring the boiling water over the leaves.

\--

“I’m sorry my tea isn’t up to your standards,” Harry muttered in response upon hearing the stranger’s comment. “I’m not exactly rich, in case you haven’t noticed.” He had only recently finished his schooling, and was currently in the process of obtaining a job, made increasingly difficult by his reputation and orphan status. Very few were willing to take on the dangers associated with hiring such a marked young man, no matter how famous he was. Just the thought of it made his fingers twitch with the desire to run them over his scar, but he restrained himself. Doing so would likely draw attention to the scar and lead to more questions that he was in no mood to answer.

The stranger requested for him to take a seat as he prepared a pot of tea for the two of them. Harry, however, remained standing. “I’m sure we do, but it’s the middle of the bloody night. Whatever you’re wanting to discuss, it can wait.” Walking back to the door, he opened it and gestured for the man to leave. He didn’t care if he was being stupid and stubborn. He didn’t care that he was being rude to a vampire he had accidentally allowed into his flat. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

The stranger, however, made no move to leave Harry in his solace. After a few painstaking minutes of a stalemate, Harry sighed. Taking a seat across from the man, he removed his glasses briefly in order to pinch the bridge of his nose in exhaustion.

Sitting across from him, Harry was struck even more by the man’s beauty. It was as if he walked straight out of a classical painting, kept preserved and pristine for years. Yet there was a deadly aura about him that even Harry could not deny. He knew he had made a mistake, letting him in, and now he had to tread carefully to avoid meeting his doom.

“Alright,” he finally said. “What do you want with me?”

\--

“Your tea is quite sufficient, Harry. Really, it’s fine.” Tom murmured soothingly as he took his own seat at the table. With a fluid gesture, the opposite chair at the small kitchen table pulled itself out for Harry. All at the same time, two cups drifted from Harry’s taller cabinet, settling themselves next to Tom as he calmly waited for his host to come to his senses.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Tom whispered, his voice low, almost threatening. It was a long moment in which they held one another’s gaze, Harry’s stubbornly standing by the door, insisting that Tom leave immediately, but after a long, drawn out moment, they both became overwhelmingly aware that Tom was unswayed. He stared contentedly, his wine colored eyes tracing the gentle curve of Harry’s face, as though memorizing every little feature, every twitch of anger or hint of exhaustion. 

His gaze lingered on Harry’s slender neck.

Harry finally gave up, slamming the door back into place with perhaps just a touch too much force. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if warding off a headache.  _Adorable, human weakness. How quaint_. Harry stumbled back into the kitchen and slumped into the chair opposite Tom only to shoot the first question he could think up.

“I desire a great deal from you, Harry, but I find it quite curious that you don’t seem very concerned with who I am.” Tom began, his voice easy and smoothed by nonchalance. “And I wouldn’t be too concerned with needlessly bringing attention to your scar and giving yourself away, Harry. I’m quite familiar with your  _famous scar_ , seeing as I am the one who gave it to you.” Tom continued with a pleasant smile that never quite reached those dark eyes. 

“I go by many different names. Most of them are born of fear, but some have more of a perfunctory nature. For the sake of our conversation, you can call me Lord Riddle. Or Tom, maybe, seeing as I’d like to get a bit better acquainted with you.”

“Tea?” He offered, not bothering to wait for an answer as he poured his host a cup and slid it across the table to him. “Be careful, it’s quite hot.”

\--

Unconsciously, Harry’s fingers flew to his scar when the man across from him brought attention to it.  _How did he?_  For a mere moment, Harry’s eyes reflected the natural fear one should have when dealing with an immortal creature of the night. However, the fear left as quickly as it came, despite the creature’s confession to giving Harry the scar that had made him so famous.

“I don’t exactly see why I need be concerned,” he finally replied, his voice coming out with more strength than he felt at the moment. “If you had come here to kill me, you would have done so by now,  _Lord Riddle_.” Unlike the smooth, sultry tones Lord Riddle had used when speaking Harry’s name, Harry’s tone was a cold hiss, filled to the brim with scorn.

Harry was certainly awake now, all the tiredness in his bones replaced with a suspicion and wariness that kept him alert and on edge. There was no doubt in his mind that Lord Riddle was toying with him. For what purpose, he didn’t know. But he had a feeling that he was better off not knowing. One thing he knew for sure: he’d be lucky if he made it through the night the same way he entered it.

No longer wanting to meet the man’s predatory, wine-colored gaze, Harry turned his attention to the cup of tea that had been thrust upon him. He made no move to take a drink, choosing to stare at his own reflection in the liquid, hands clenched tightly in his lap under the table. For the first time that night, Harry was truly silent. It was uncomfortable, being subjected to such a piercing gaze, and Harry felt as if he was being swallowed up in the other’s eyes, despite not looking at them. His body language was tense, a sign of his inner distress. Yet he stayed silent, saying nothing more as if he feared a reaction from the other. Unlike everything he had so far encountered in his life, this opponent was a complete mystery, one he knew next to nothing about. And, seeing as Lord Riddle apparently knew everything about Harry, he was at an obvious disadvantage.

Hedwig hooted softly in the background as Harry was slowly overcome with the feeling of dread.

\--

Harry’s expressions changed so rapidly, so drastically, that Tom felt as though he were being mocked for a beat of a moment. He went from being exhausted and irate to shocked in a heartbeat. His hand shot to his scar, running his fingertips along it gently until he slowly lowered it once again, his eyes locked on to Tom, wide with terror. While the vampire did enjoy a certain sense of gravitas in his entrances, there was a tempered sort of anger and acceptance that came with Harry’s realization. The shock value had worn off and now Harry was left with something far different.

Anger burned behind those brilliant green eyes. It seared its way into Tom’s memory, making him think quite forcibly of a young woman he had the unfortunate happenstance of facing off against thrice before she was finally felled. Strange, that he should look so much like his father and yet, Tom could really only sense his mother staring back out at him through those glimmering green eyes of his.

“Smart lad.” Tom commented, now pouring himself his own cup of tea before setting the teapot aside. “You’re right, of course, but there’s really no point to killing you, Harry. Not when you’re so very useful to me  _alive_.” Tom spoke softly, gently. He seemed to taste the words, letting them settle between himself and his host as his dark eyes focused on Harry.

The owl hooted softly as the boy absolutely refused to hold his gaze.  _Petulant little child._

“Why do you think I am here? If not to destroy you, than what else is there?” Tom asked him, his slender fingertips running over the rim of his simple ceramic mug before taking a small sip. Unlike his counterpart, his wine colored eyes never left Harry, as though eagerly awaiting the moment to recapture his bright eyed gaze and slowly draw him in. “You have not been trained to think tactically, I understand that. But,  _think_. What have I to gain by being here? What have you to gain by speaking with me?”

\--

Still looking at his cup, Harry’s eyes widened in shock at Lord Riddle’s words. Useful? What did he mean by that? He wasn’t anything special. There were so many people around him that were exponentially more talented than he was. The only thing Harry seemed to be good at was getting into trouble and avoid dying. His hands shaking, he finally lifted the cup of tea to his lips, in an attempt to calm his nerves. It didn’t seem to make much of a difference, but at least his hands stopped shaking.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the remaining warmth of the drink fill his body and relieve some of the chill he felt the longer he remained in the room with the vampire lord. “I don’t know,” he responded to the man’s question, his voice no more than a whisper. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know,” he repeated, louder this time. “That’s why I’m asking you.” His body was tense again, cycling between fear and anger as if torn between how to act in front of his guest. Still, he refused to meet the man’s gaze.

He could still feel Lord Riddle’s piercing look on him, drinking in every little aspect of the young man in front of him. Harry was used to stares, being relatively well known by the general public, but this was different. Lord Riddle’s stare was something else entirely. It was haunting and relentless, following his every motion with a burning sort of hunger. He was loathe to admit it, but the unnaturalness of Lord Riddle’s eyes, coupled with his perfectly sculpted features, scared him.

“What do you want, Lord Riddle?” In a moment of impulse, he looked up into his enemy’s eyes.

\--

Harry’s mind really was just as blank as he was telling Riddle over and over again. Frankly, his thoughts were so panicked, it was remarkable that he was able to form complete sentences. His brilliant green eyes darted around the room before focusing on his cup of tea and stumbling over his words. He was trembling like the final leaves of autumn, clinging to their branch for dear life. It was more than apparent now that the boy had not been personally trained by any of his supposed ‘mentors’. They would have made sure that he could hide any shadows of emotions from his face, guarding him from overly observant enemies.

Perhaps they had expected to be able to protect him at all times. How foolishly naive.

“Harry, let’s begin with your current situation.” Riddle replied, his voice light and well-mannered and he set his cup back down on the table. “You and your group of human, magic user allies are outnumbered and out skilled by my forces. This is a fact, but this is not entirely why I’m here to speak with you.” He murmured with a nod of confirmation. “Let’s remove my forces from this picture completely. We will pretend, for the sake of this argument, that they are not deadly, trained fighters ready to do my bidding at a moment’s notice.” He said, sliding his hand across the table in a firm motion, as though shifting them off to the side and out of the way. “The fact that they are no longer a threat to you does not guarantee your safety. There are two other, extremely powerful forces that continue to dog you and your companions.”

“Fenrir Grayback will not stop until he has brutalized those who you know and love. You know his methods, and the havoc he wreaks.” Tom motioned with his left hand, as if to introduce an enemy force to the conversation. “Just in case you need a reminder, he’s responsible for  _killing, raping and skinning_  those who oppose him, and you had better hope he feels magnanimous enough to do so in that order.” Tom revealed, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “He seeks to destroy Remus Lupin, and you know he will not hesitate to murder you to make it to him.”

“And, of course, your association with Albus had brought you to the attention of Gellert Grindelwald.” Tom laughed, a touch bitterly, motioning with his right hand this time. “His methods are mysterious, but it’s not uncommon to hear whispers of ‘necromancy’ in the same breath as his name. I’ve met the man, Harry. He’s no one to be trifled with. He’s been playing this deadly game twice as long as I have, and while I can admit that I’m far better at tactics and war games than he ever can hope to be, he’s far better at experimentation.” Tom trailed, his eyes locked on to Harry again. “He wants to destroy Albus. Yet again, you stand directly in the way of his attack, and I don’t think he would be opposed to turning you or your friends into one of his ‘grand experiments’.”

Tom let silence settle between them, folding his elegantly long fingers together over his cup of tea, feeling the heat rise from the steam as he continued to consider the boy from across the table. Those crimson eyes softened as he gazed at him, gradually allowing his hands to settle before him.

“I know of a way to save you and all those who you love, Harry.”

\--

Harry’s mentors and colleagues had tried to train to guard himself, his mind, and his emotions, but their efforts had all been wasted. It was nearly impossible for Harry to be anything but an open book. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep himself from being transparent, even when facing off against an enemy. Combined with his somewhat reckless nature, it was almost entirely sheer luck that Harry hadn’t been captured or killed at this point in his life. Of course, he had never been in a situation as dire as facing a vampire lord before. But the two had already established that Lord Riddle was not there to kill him. Harry still wasn’t certain what the reason for the midnight visit was, but at the very least he was certain that he would live to see the next sunrise.

As Riddle began to speak, outlining his intentions with carefully guarded precision, Harry had to bite his tongue and keep from lashing out. He knew that the group he was involved with was small and inexperienced in comparison with the vampire coven, but they were his family. Even though their odds weren’t the best, they were loyal and protective of each other. They would do whatever it took to take down an enemy. Harry found that he admired their bravery and he didn’t like hearing Lord Riddle talk about them like that. And he hated even more what seemed like an underlying threat that if Harry didn’t go along with his offer, he might as well say goodbye to everyone he knew and loved.

Still, Harry just clenched his jaw and continued to hear the vampire lord out. It turned out to be the best decision he had made all night, as Lord Riddle revealed information that Harry had known absolutely nothing about. From what he was saying, the vampire coven they had been working so hard to take down, while perhaps the closest to home for him, was only one of the many deadly enemies against Harry. According to Lord Riddle, there were at least two other forces plotting against him as he stood in the way of their ultimate goals. If he didn’t do something, he would die at the hands of one of these three leaders, and his death would be used for nothing but destruction of both the world and the mentors he cared deeply for.

It was a difficult situation. If he continued to live and fight against these powers, he knew that his friends and mentors would do anything to keep him safe, and he would not allow any more blood to be spilled on his behalf. But dying also held its own consequences, as Lord Riddle had so  _kindly_  outlined for him. If he died, there was no stopping the path of destruction that would follow. It seemed that he was the last line of defense. For everyone.

“What are you suggesting? I can’t say that I’ll accept your proposal, but………” Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ll hear you out. It’s better than nothing.”

\--

It was the moment of truth. Tom could have planned every second up until this moment of held suspense between them while he decided how to approach such a personal, rather intimate subject with Harry. He was just a poor little mortal human, after all. He couldn’t be expected to fully understand each comprehensive facet of the offer that Tom was about to make, or exactly how very connected and complicated this was about to become.

_But the power Tom could hold…_

Tom simply could not deny what he sensed, even right now, sitting at this shabby little kitchen table with the young man. He could feel that unknown energy radiating off of him. Tom even had his suspicions that Harry didn’t have the slightest idea of exactly what kind of power was contained within him, or that he was exceptional, or special because of it. From what Tom could tell, he simply knew that a good deal of these problems seemed to revolve around him directly or indirectly, and he needed to deal with them head on.

“Harry, my noble race has a legend of sorts.” Tom trailed, taking a sip of his tea and savoring the bitter taste, taking the time to choose his next words. “When there is an extremely powerful vampire of noble lineage, like myself, they may choose to create something called a ‘Chalice’.” He explained simply, keeping his terms as elementary as possible.

“A Chalice is an individual who acts as the vampire’s main source of sustenance. They’re not killed by the vampire, or even turned undead. Yet, from what I understand, their senses are honed and they achieve a magical variety of preservation and longevity. This is to say, quite simply that their powers are increased drastically. They evolve into a being that is beyond mere human to something far more perfect, more exquisite. In addition, the vampire no longer has to hunt to survive any longer. They can depend on one steady source of blood, which they will not ever kill. The relationship is purely symbiotic.”

Tom fought to keep a knowing smile from his lips. This was no time to be taunting the boy, but the urge to do so was nearly overwhelming. He tried not to look at the boy as if he had him exactly where he wanted him. No matter his answer, Tom knew precisely what would unfold. It was only a matter of time, after all.

“Harry, if you if you would be willing to become my chalice, I would protect you and your forces. You would never have to worry over any of the threats that surround you. I would ensure your safety.” He murmured, trying to keep as calm, as comforting as possible, but there was an undeniable hunger burning within his eyes.

\--

Chalice.

Harry remembered hearing that word before, likely from one of his friends or mentors. He couldn’t recall much more beyond the recognition of the word, but it wasn’t as if those around him had any information to go on. If his fleeting memories served him correctly, there were very little records of those chosen to be Chalices. He vaguely recalled Hermione telling him about how most Chalices left their human lives behind after forming the bond with the vampire. He gave a small snort internally. He never thought that someday Hermione’s seemingly random bits of knowledge she would share out of the blue would come in handy. The girl was a walking encyclopedia, and Harry had long since started to tune her out along with his best friend Ron.

A somewhat uncomfortable silence settled in the room after Lord Riddle finished speaking. While Harry was known to be a man of action, rarely taking the time to stop and think things through, he was deep in thought for the first time in months. He sat quietly across the table from the vampire lord, weighing his choices.

On one hand, entering a relationship with Lord Riddle like the one he was describing would, based on his words, keep his friends safe from any outside threats. However, it seemed to be an extremely risky sacrifice of his own person, and, if he was being honest, Harry wasn’t entirely sure he could trust the man. They had been enemies up until this point, and that was the only thing Harry knew him as. Partnering with Lord Riddle would be like partnering with a very powerful, hungry serpent. And just because their leader would be civil with Harry and his allies didn’t mean that Lord Riddle’s underlings would follow his example.

As he pondered his choices, Harry looked upon Lord Riddle again, taking in his aristocratic beauty. The man, no, creature, Harry refused to think of him as something as mortal as a man, looked as if he had been carved straight from the highest quality of marble, a perfect statue come to life. His beauty made the hungry, taunting, almost malicious (in Harry’s mind) aura about him all the more unnerving. The power that pulsed from him was nothing like Harry had ever encountered before, and yet he found himself stubbornly refusing to back down and submit to the vampire. Whether it was out of bravery or sheer stupidity, Harry couldn’t say.

After some time had passed, Harry made his decision. “I understand what you’re saying,” Harry said, his voice almost level. He hoped he was making the right choice. “But I will have to refuse. I don’t need to be anything more than I already am, nor do I want to stand out any more than I already do. As for my friends, I’m sure we’ll be able to manage.” He stood up from the table. “Thank you for the information, though. I will make sure it is put to good use. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going back to bed. I take it you can see yourself out.” And with that, Harry walked away from Lord Riddle, not caring if he left or not.

\--

It was rather hard to tell, but the moment that Tom finished speaking, he braced himself. It wasn’t that he really feared any sort of reaction from the young mortal, it was that he would prefer not to have an entire pot of tea thrown in his face (because it was really more of a question of injury to his dignity than to his person). While Harry still seemed to be processing the entire conversation, Tom let the silence stretch between them. One minute, two…maybe five now, it was impossible to tell. While the vampire lord was far from being ‘uncomfortable’, he realized that this moment might be considered rather tense to his young companion, but it was imperative that Harry considered his options fully and completely.

And quite frankly, Tom was dumbfounded. He had expected shrieking rage, screaming threats, unwavering intense anger, but what he found before him was a pensive young man, staring blankly into a cup of tea as his thoughts moved far more quickly than he could even consider voicing. From what he had seen of Harry before, this did not seem to align with the brash, reckless young human he had anticipated. The change was as surprising as it was refreshing. Perhaps he had judged his situation too early to even get a full grasp on what the boy was capable of. Maybe Harry would even acquiesce to the request after all.

When the boy spoke again, his voice was even, calm and measured. He spoke with an assurance that Tom had not been expecting, yet still, the answer was exactly what the vampire had planned for. It was a polite and well-spoken refusal, worthy of a student under the tutelage of both Remus and Albus (among many others). 

No rage, no thrown teacups, no destroyed kitchen, no temper tantrum. Tom even found himself quietly considering the boy’s words as he spoke, which was a delightful and pleasant surprise. Granted, he had planned for this outcome, so a refusal was going exactly according to his wishes but it did lengthen the process of obtaining his precious Chalice just the slightest bit longer. 

“I hope you’re right, Harry.” He murmured, his tone a delighted little sing-song that seemed to imply that he knew far more than he was letting on. He watched the boy retreat now, setting his cup on the table and finally allowing himself to go off to bed. It didn’t seem to matter in the slightest that there was currently a powerful vampire lord sitting at his table, sharing his future hopes for them. Harry had enough of this and he was about to make himself painfully clear about that fact. 

Tom sat alone for just a moment before he set the kitchen right once again. With a casual wave of his hand, the cups and tea pot began to magically float over the sink and wash themselves clean.

So, the boy was just more than irrational, reckless behavior backed up by more powerful mentor figures? Tom was learning far more from this short conversation than he had ever thought possible, and what he found, he was liking more and more. His future Chalice should be able to think on his toes, but also be logical and pragmatic about their conclusions. Harry had done well tonight. Despite his pervious slip up, letting a deadly enemy waltz into his home, he had managed the conversation and offer with about as much grace as a young mortal could. 

As he made his way out of the front door, Tom smiled as he breathed in the fresh air, anticipating the next step in this process. This was the waiting game. And while this could seem to drag on forever, he knew that the promise of victory at the end of this dark tunnel would be all the sweeter for his patience.


	2. A Deal with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In desperation, the deal is made. Fate has dealt Harry a rather grim hand, and now the act of binding himself is becoming much more than he bargained for. His troubles are only beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an ongoing roleplay story that myself (https://riddlemostpowerful.tumblr.com/) and my brilliant buddy (https://i-cant-be-a-wizard.tumblr.com/). She's also known as TwistingShadows here on AO3.
> 
> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story! If you could please leave me a comment I would LOVE to hear your thoughts and opinions. I'm so grateful that you've taken an interest in our writing and I'm so happy to receive your comments and kudos.

**** And then everything fell to pieces.

 

It seemed that, by making his allies aware of the other threats that faced them, it had somehow tipped off Gellert and Fenrir’s forces. Before he knew it, Harry was desperately fighting for his life alongside his allies as he faced off against opponents stronger than he could have ever imagined. And with every battle in which he narrowly escaped death, he swore he could feel crimson eyes watching him.

 

It was out of sheer desperation that he called out to Lord Riddle. He and his companions were frantically struggling to stay alive as they fought against their strongest enemies yet. One by one, his allies fell. Somehow, Harry knew that unless he did something, everyone would die. Swallowing his pride, he called for the vampire lord as he just barely avoided being hit. “Tom! I know you’re there!”

 

Xx

 

The past week had been carefully controlled chaos, to a certain degree.

 

For all of Tom’s careful preparations in how to move forward and ‘claim his chalice’, there was nothing that could have tipped him off to knowing why both Fenrir’s and Gellert’s forces seemed to have chosen the same fortuitous moment to attack. His intel about their movements was garnered through a meticulously careful web of spies that worked on the outskirts of these respective organizations. He had known of their interest in Albus’ boy, but he never could have known why the onslaught had happened exactly when it did.

 

All Tom could seem to discern was that the weight of both of these opposing forces was only working in his favor. Attack after attack, Harry seemed to slowly be crumbling under the pressure of his impending doom. The boy had refused him, and thus Tom had been respectfully spying on these skirmishes from a careful distance away. Each time, the threat grew more vicious, more violent. Each time, Tom could see his target wavering closer and closer to the final blessed moment when Harry called out his name.

 

Finally, on the edge of defeat. Harry and his paltry group of combatants had pigeon-holed themselves into a corner from which there was no escape.  _ Either I lose him tonight, _ Tom reflected,  _ or becomes mine completely _ . While he fought to keep himself calm, he could feel the tension building up, further and further until finally he heard it. Harry cried out his name.

 

“Why, Harry! What an unexpected delight!” Tom said, seeming to materialize out of thin air right before the young boy. The attacks which were happening directly behind him were immediately neutralized as if by some unseen magical force. They bounced off uselessly and careened into the shattered concrete of the broken establishment Harry had trapped himself in.

 

“What seems to be the issue, hm?”

 

Xx

 

If looks could kill a vampire, Lord Riddle would most certainly have been dead by now, judging by the glare Harry was shooting him. “Don’t act like you don’t know,” he replied through clenched teeth. They both knew that the so-called “delight” was anything but unexpected for the vampire lord. Harry may have been completely oblivious to most things, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew that Lord Riddle had been watching him ever since their midnight meeting, waiting for his chance to whisk Harry away into his world.

 

He had held out for as long as he could, but with attacks coming from all sides between Fenrir and Gellert, Harry found that he could no longer delay the inevitable. He supposed it was a good thing that he valued the lives of his remaining friends more than his own. With his actions, he prayed that this could prevent more blood from being spilled. Well, more blood in his side, at least. He found it hard to pity his enemies as they died when they wanted Harry dead for no other reason than to get to his mentors. And while he trusted Lord Riddle about as far as he could throw, at least the vampire lord was more or less honest with him and had given him an option to stop the bloodshed on Harry’s side. He just hoped that it would be enough. That his stubbornness hadn’t caused him to make his choice too late.

 

“You know exactly what the issue is,” Harry continued, glowering. “You know why I called for you. Let’s just get this over with. I don’t want any more blood to be shed tonight. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain if you’ll hold up yours. If you protect us and let my friends walk out of here alive, I’ll give you what you want. I’ll be your Chalice or whatever.”

 

He glanced behind Lord Riddle as he spoke, trying to make sure that his companions weren’t dying as he spoke to the creature in front of him. While Lord Riddle seemed to have stopped all the direct attacks against Harry himself, there was no way to be sure that it had protected his friends as well. After all, Lord Riddle was here for Harry, not his allies. He was still a bit hesitant to commit to this, but it wasn’t as if he had many other alternatives. He just kept telling himself that it would be worth it if he friends would be safe.

 

Another attack shot in Harry’s direction, but bounced off of whatever magical force was surrounding Lord Riddle, shattering the window nearby. Instinctively, Harry ducked to avoid any flying shards or debris from the impact. He grit his teeth. “Look, can we hurry this up please? This isn’t exactly the time to be having a long, drawn out conversation. I don’t care about the details. Like I said before, you hold up your end of the deal, and I’ll hold up mine.” In the back of his mind, Harry knew that was probably a stupid thing to say, that he didn’t care about the details of what becoming Lord Riddle’s Chalice entailed, but he was honestly desperate and at his wits end. He just wanted the endless battles to stop. Green eyes locked on red, he waited for the vampire’s response.

 

Xx

 

Panicking somehow suited Harry. The vibrant greens of his eyes seemed to glimmer in the excitement and adrenaline that was pumping through those veins. The fear and urgency of his tone was overwhelming, enticing. It seemed to add to the general allure of his intoxicating anxiety. That power that Tom had sensed in him from their first meeting seemed to be pulsating erratically, searching desperately for a way to protect the boy from all the darkness and horror that awaited him. His innate power could not stave off the impending sacrifice he was about to make. Harry was being the same, reckless, foolish self that Tom had expected from him that evening seven days ago.

 

Now he had fallen directly into Tom’s grasp. The desperation and truth in Harry’s eyes was uncanny, he had no idea what he was getting into. He had done no research, had asked no other individual what they knew of the legendary ‘chalice’ status among vampires. In this exchange, Tom held all of the control, all of the knowledge and soon, all of the power. Frankly, it was quite a battle just to keep himself from smirking down at the boy, but he kept himself respectfully silent and subdued as Harry spoke. No matter how hard he glared, or how curt and demanding his words were, there was no denying the fact that Harry was now exactly where Tom had wanted him. He had walked willingly into the trap and Tom could not help but be pleased as he sensed victory lingering on the horizon. “I’m glad to hear you’ve come to your senses, Harry.” He murmured gently. “Now, I’m going to need you to-“

 

His thought was cut short by a rather violent burst of a spell directly on the shield that Tom had summoned up around him. The force of it shattered a chunk of the concrete flooring not ten feet away from where Tom stood. The vampire lord snapped his attention to the back of the room, where their opponents were beginning to file in through the broken archway, wands raised. By the mangey look of their garments, and the starving, hollowed shadows on their gaunt faces, it was quite clear that these foolish mortal beasts were sent by none other than Fenrir.  The group might have been formidable for anyone else. As it were though, Tom’s patience had long since grown thin.

 

“I’m trying to hold a conversation,  _ imbeciles _ .” Tom hissed. Glaring daggers at them, the vampire lord rose into the air, drawing forth a long, thin wand from his billowing, black robes. It was a mere flick of the wrist, a fluid motion as if Tom were gesturing to the oncoming enemy. In a heartbeat, the archway exploded in a fiery cascade of molten rage. The individuals in the front of their attacking line were reduced to splatters of vivid, grotesque red splotches on the floors, hints of gore and bone scattered on the ground and crumbling walls. Those who had been behind the main attack lay crumpled, and contorted, bleeding and burning, their bodies barely intact.

 

Tom sighed in annoyance, landing gracefully on the floor once again next to his young mortal companion. “Now, where was I…?  _ Oh yes _ .” This time, Tom could not keep the hungry, contented smile from his face as he approached Harry once again. He placed his hand gently on the boy’s shoulder and turned him to face the rest of his companions. Tom knew they were present. Four or five of them in total were hiding out with Harry in this very room, and this would be more than enough to get the message to the rest of the ‘Order’ that Tom had taken their golden boy as his own.

 

“Say it again, Harry. This time… _ louder _ .” He whispered, his hand still possessively on the young mortal’s back.

 

Xx

 

When the dust settled after the attack, Harry looked up to see a very irritated Lord Riddle rising in the air, wand at the ready. Flicking his eyes to the vampire’s line of sight, he saw a small army of Fenrir’s forces inching towards the broken archway of the long-abandoned area in which the fight had broken out a few hours ago. His hand twitched towards his own wand, but it was unnecessary. In the time it would take one to breathe, Lord Riddle had vanquished the threat, reducing the enemy to no more than a pile of broken bones. Harry turned to the side, retching at the sight. The battles he had been involved in had gotten bad in terms of casualties, but the sight of Lord Riddle’s power, the blood smears, the gore, the mangled bodies, was nauseating. He couldn’t help but flinch when the vampire placed his hand on his shoulder. The hunger, now evident on his face, made the situation that much worse. Harry tried to convince himself that it would be worth it. His companions would be safe.

 

Harry’s eyes widened slightly in shock when Lord Riddle turned him to face his remaining friends. He had thought that Lord Riddle would have just whisked him away quietly. Harry would just disappear and no one had to know what had happened. He should have known better. He also shouldn’t have said what he did. Letting Lord Riddle know that the details didn’t matter was basically telling the creature that, not only was he unprepared for what would happen, but that he was willing to go along with whatever Lord Riddle said. But he was desperate. He also wasn’t as stupid as people seemed to think he was. He knew this was a trap, that he was playing right into Lord Riddle’s hands, but he didn’t care anymore.  He just wanted the never-ending bloodshed to stop.

 

Facing his companions, he stared straight ahead with an almost deer-in-the-headlights look, his heart caught in his throat. This was not how he thought it would go. His eyes locked on the faces of his two closest confidants, his best friends, Ron and Hermione. They looked at him in concern and confusion, not understanding what was happening. But why should they? He never told them about the midnight meeting, the offer that the vampire lord had made. He hadn’t intended to go through with it, so he hadn’t seen the point in sharing that information. But now, now he almost wished he had. But it was too late.

 

It wasn’t until he felt Lord Riddle’s hand push ever so slightly into his lower back that he managed to force out the words that had caught in his throat. He swallowed thickly, breaking his gaze with Ron and Hermione. He couldn’t bear to see their expressions. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your Chalice as long as you promise to keep those in the Order, my friends, from harm.” His voice came out much more assured than he felt. He kept his eyes lowered as an uncomfortable silence stretched throughout the room as Harry’s companions took in the information.

 

Hermione was the first to speak up, knowing exactly what it was that Harry was doing. “Harry, no! You can’t do this! There must be another way!” He could almost hear the tears in her voice, terrified at the thought of losing her best friend.

 

“Mate…” Ron’s voice was next. Unlike Hermione’s anguish, Ron’s single word was dejected and resigned. He knew that Harry had made his choice, and none of them had any right to stop him.

 

Silence filled the room again, no one else daring to speak, lest they set off the vampire on themselves. A few others opened their mouths, but one glance at the mess in the archway had them immediately closing it. Harry couldn’t blame them for choosing their lives over his situation. As famed as his was, he wasn’t worth voicing a thought that would surely end in a swift death.

 

Hearing movement, Harry’s head snapped up, expecting another attack. Instead, his eyes landed on Ron holding Hermione back, who was trying to run to Harry. He smiled sadly, giving a small, half-hearted wave in their direction. He would miss the two of them. But he had made his choice. He just had to keep telling himself that it was the right one.

 

Xx

 

There was grim acceptance in Harry’s voice as he spoke. There was a thrill of excitement to knowing that his plan was finally moving along to its next step. They was so close to fruition that he could nearly  _ taste _ it.

 

These young humans were intriguing. It was so rare these days that shows of genuine emotion were plainly shared among mortals, and yet here were Harry’s two companions, clearly distressed by their current circumstances. Tom could sense their emotions like the thrum of a pulse, in short bursts of panic and denial in the girl, and slow pulses of sadness and acceptance from the young man. The rest of the remaining mortals seem to slip out of sight, into the background where they could stay carefully out of the line of attack to retaliate against Tom if need be. Tom shook his head knowingly. There would be no need for additional bloodshed…yet.

 

Withdrawing his hand from Harry, he drew up the left sleeve of his robe. He placed his slender index finger on the base of his arm. Dark spirals blossomed on his pale skin, as if ink were spreading through his arm directly from the tip. The swirling patterns formed a cohesive design in a matter of seconds, a snake intertwined with the mouth of a skull. The Vampire Lord’s  _ chosen  _ sign. He felt the familiar burn of a response, the mental passageway opening up in a matter of seconds.

 

_ The boy has agreed. We shall move on to the second phase. Begin the preparations. _

 

Tom felt the feeling of affirmation vibrate through the link before he withdrew contact with the design and watched it fade back into nothing before turning his attention to Harry and his ‘little friends’. It seemed that the boy had made peace with his fate, finally. The pitiful little life he had created there would need to be left behind.

 

“It’s time to be born again, with a new purpose.” Tom whispered, ignoring the girl’s cries of dissent as Harry’s other companion firmly held her back. Harry looked deadened and tired. Everything about him, to the dark look of his eyes to the exhaustion in his tone felt defeated.

 

_ Perfect. _

 

Tom did not hesitate in taking Harry’s arm. After a whirling apparition of energy, the two of them were transported in a heartbeat. It was nearly impossible to tell exactly where they had landed, due to the fact that the room itself was nearly pitch black. Tom still held tightly to Harry’s arm as they stepped forward into the inky blackness. Gradually, it became clear that three figures stood before them, each wearing an ornate, bone white mask with golden trim, and a dark cloak. They seemed to stare endlessly out of the darkened eye holes of the masks. Tom pushed Harry forward, and then took a step back as if to give the boy a bit of space. All the while, his eyes watched the proceedings with unblinking focus.

 

“What do you fear?” Asked the first figure.

 

“What do you hold most dear?” Murmured the middle figure.

 

“What do you dream of?” Whispered the final figure.

 

Xx

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Lord Riddle move, withdrawing his hand from Harry to form his personal cipher, a snake intertwined with the mouth of a skull. Harry recalled that members of Lord Riddle’s coven would use that sign for communication, and he gave a small sigh. There was no turning back now. Yet he didn’t acknowledge Lord Riddle’s actions, choosing to continue facing forward towards his friends. It would most likely be the last time he’d see them, and he wanted to cherish the little time he had left with them. 

 

“It’ll be okay, ‘Mione,” he assured the young woman who was currently choking back sobs. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just…take care of yourself, okay? And, uh, look after Hedwig for me.” 

 

He shifted awkwardly, not knowing what to say. What was there to say, when you knew that you were leaving forever, but not because you wanted to? It wasn’t like when the trio parted every summer, when they knew they would see each other again. Ron and Hermione’s stories would continue on, but he would no longer be a part of them. And that acknowledgement made Harry feel lonelier than ever before. 

 

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for whatever Lord Riddle would do next. 

 

_ “It’s time to be born again, with a new purpose.” _ Lord Riddle whispered in his ear, his voice and words sending chills through Harry, and he couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through his scrawny body. Still, he resigned himself to his fate, once again reassuring himself that this was what he had to do. There was no other choice. Reluctantly, he gave a small, defeated nod. 

The next thing he knew, he was being whisked away in a whirling apparition of energy, presumably to wherever Lord Riddle resided. 

 

When they landed, Harry had to squint in an attempt to make out any features in the near pitch-black darkness. Guiding him by the arm, Lord Riddle ushered him forward until they reached three figures standing before them. Judging by the cloaks and ornate masks they were wearing, Harry could conclude that these were members of Lord Riddle’s elusive coven. What were they doing here? He tried to look to the vampire lord for answers, but he seemed to have slunk back into the darkness a bit, giving Harry some space. 

 

Hearing the figures speak, Harry turned his attention back to the creatures in front of him. He blinked at their questions, not understanding at first. “What?” He blurted out. The figures continued to peer at him unflinchingly from behind their masks. 

 

“Er, well, I don’t really think I fear anything,” he replied to the first question, scratching the side of his neck out of nervousness. “I think I remember one of my mentors, Lupin, saying something about me fearing fear. I guess I fear being afraid?” He dropped his hand. “I don’t know.”

 

He turned to the next figure. “Uh, I guess I hold my friends dear to me.” He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t mention how he saw them as his family, seeing as he never really had one growing up. He didn’t talk about how he didn’t know where he’d be without them. They didn’t need to know the reasons for his values. Even if he was agreeing to a relationship with their leader, they were still his enemies. 

 

The last question made him pause. A minute or two ticked by before he finally answered the question. “To be honest, I don’t really know what you’re asking. But I guess I dream about having a normal life,” he said, before pausing again. “And my parents.” Harry went silent after that.

 

Xx

 

The boy had, predictably, turned away from Tom. The three figures which loomed ahead of him were commanding all of his attention and concentration. It must be strange for him. For having no idea what was about to come next, he was remarkably calm.

 

Tom listened to the soft exchange of words, the poignant questions and the uncertain answers which followed from Harry. The answers themselves were intriguing. Tom couldn’t help but take them into careful consideration. All the while, he continued to back away into the darkness, disappearing from view. He was no longer needed here, after all. It was time he made his own preparations for the next phase.

 

“You fear the sensation of fear.” Observed the first figure, stepping toward Harry. The gold of their mask glimmering softly as the brasiers along the walls began to glow with cold, mirthless  flames, revealing granite stone walls within their current chamber. The figure did not seem rushed. In fact, it moved so fluidly and gracefully, it was almost as if their feet were not touching the ground at all. “You are either very brave, or very foolish. Only time will tell.”

 

“Your friends are held most dear in your heart.” The second figure repeated. They seemed to consider him for a moment longer while the light from the torches strengthened just a touch more, revealing the deep, blood red carpet that Harry was currently standing on. The room was a round shape, as plain as it was stark and imposing. The black of the figure’s robes billowed out slightly as it stepped forward as well, approaching Harry with an easy grace. “And your heart is the most powerful, the most precious. That is the reason you stand here today, after all. Is friendship truly that important though?”

 

The third figure was stoic, completely still before speaking. “You dream of normalcy.” They whispered, a gloved finger running across the delicate chin of the mask. The torches were lit to the fullest extent now, and the stark light which flickered down on them was neither warm, nor comforting. The round room and it’s dark stone walls held very little aside from the three figures and Harry, upon that soft, deep red cloth beneath his feet. “You long for the comfort of peace and routine. All mortals do. This is understandable.” The third figure murmured.

 

“Remove these garments.” The second figure stated, their tone even and calm, yet firm. They gestured to Harry’s baggy tee shirt and torn pair of jeans, dusted with soot and ash from the battle he had just escaped. “You shall have no need of them beyond this point.”

 

Xx

 

In all honesty, Harry had no idea how or why he was remaining so calm in this situation. Normally, he would be lashing out by now, looking desperately for any possibility of escape, refusing to bend to the will of his enemies and give them what they wanted. And yet, Harry had found himself answering the creatures’ questions with a deadly calm that was completely uncharacteristic for him. Perhaps it was because he had already resigned to his fate. Perhaps it was something more, some hidden agenda that only he knew about. 

 

Harry barely paid attention to the three figures as they spoke, instead choosing to look behind him for the creature that had brought him here. But Lord Riddle seemed to have disappeared into the shadows during the conversation Harry had been having with his coven members. His jaw tensed slightly. For someone who had seemingly pulled out all of the stops when it came to obtaining Harry as his Chalice, Lord Riddle was not be the most gracious host at the moment.  _ What a prick _ , he thought to himself.  _ Leaving me to his underlings while he’s off doing who knows what _ . 

 

His unpleasant thoughts were interrupted, however, when the torches in the room grew to their brightest, giving Harry a better look at his surroundings. His attention turned forward again, taking in the room. It was a round room with granite walls and a deep, blood red carpet, completely devoid of any furnishings other than the torches on the walls. Neither the room itself nor the brightly lit torches gave him any comfort. Harry briefly wondered if spilled blood would show up in the carpet beneath his feet, but quickly banished the thought. 

 

He was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn’t realize that the creatures in the room with him were moving until they were right in front of him. He took a step back from their uncomfortable proximity, nearly tripping over his feet as he did so. 

 

One of the vampires gestured to his ragged clothes, ones that had definitely seen their share of battles, and commanded him to take them off. Harry looked down at what he was wearing, then back up at the creatures in confused disbelief. “What? Why?” He replied, confused, tugging at the collar of his tattered shirt. “Why the bloody hell would I take of my clothes?” Letting go of his shirt, he crossed his arms in defiance. “I’m not taking off my clothes.” There was the slightest chance that he would do it if he was given privacy, but there was absolutely no way he was stripping in front of a group of masked strangers. 

 

“Where’s Lord Riddle?” He asked instead, changing the subject.

 

Xx

 

The three figures spaced themselves out, placing themselves around the circle in equal parts as if to fit Harry directly in the center. They seemed to consider him as he stubbornly crossed his arms and shot a glare in their general direction. There was a distinct feeling of subtle amusement that passed between them, like a pulse of pity and understanding, underlying their waning patience. 

 

“You will remove your garments. You must be cleansed before the ceremony can begin.” The one to Harry’s left said, its tone even and calm as it stepped forward fluidly. The other two were quick to follow. Either they had not heard Harry’s question, or they simply did not care because it seemed that no answer would be forthcoming. 

 

They moved with deft precision and surprising strength. One of them grabbed at Harry’s worn and dirtied shirt, giving it a solid yank and tearing the entire thing in two. Forcing his arms apart, they tossed the ruined bits of fabric aside. The same went for his pants, his undergarments, and even his beat up old sneakers until the young man was standing before them, naked as the day he was born (aside from his telltale glasses).

 

One by one, they took a step back, wasting no time in drawing forth their wands carefully from their long, formless cloaks. One turned away to face the pile of clothing. They picked through it with deft precision, finding Harry’s wand within seconds and holding on to it before stepping back once again. With a violent twitch of their wand, and the murmur of a magic ignition, Harry’s old garments went up in flames as quickly as they had been torn from his body. The other two raised their own wands and pointed them directly at Harry.

 

“Aquamenti.” 

 

A powerful blast of water erupted from the wands on either side of Harry. They crashed into him, pulverizing and forcing away any sort of dirt that may be hiding on his skin, soaking him throughout and continuing for what seemed like an unnecessarily long amount of time, knocking his glasses to the floor before the streams finally eased. When that step of the process had finally been completed, they stepped forward one final time, raising their wands up to Harry. A far more gentle stream of air washed over him and in a matter of seconds, the water was a mere memory as the air dried him completely.

 

The three figures took their place once again at each side of the circle. The one who had burned his clothing kneeled before him, offering up Harry’s wand and glasses for him to claim. 

 

“Offer it up to him when the time comes. It will be the final sign you step into this bond willingly.” The figure whispered. Soundlessly, a granite stone archway appeared directly behind Harry. The soft murmur of voices could be heard through the darkness.

 

Xx

 

Harry had been about to protest further about removing his clothes, letting the creatures know that he didn’t care that the ceremony called for him to be clean, he wasn’t stripping in front of them. But then they moved with an otherworldly speed, strategically placing themselves around the room as if to trap Harry in the middle. While he could not see through the bone white masks the three wore, there was a subtle aura of amusement in the air, and Harry scowled deeper. It felt as if they were mocking him and his situation. 

 

And then, before Harry even had a chance to comprehend what was happening, the creatures were on him, tearing into his clothes, ripping them from his body, leaving him completely exposed to the cool air that filled the room. He shivered, drawing up his arms across his body once they were released, as if trying to shield himself from the figures. 

 

One of the figures stepped away towards the pile of ruined rags that were once Harry’s clothes, muttering a magic incantation and sending them up in flames. Harry made a move to stop the figure, but was ultimately stopped by the other two as they raised their wands against him. Harry took a hesitant step back, not sure what they were doing. It was then that a powerful jet of water shot from their wands, hitting Harry with a force that nearly knocked him off of his feet. 

 

Sputtering against the frigid stream of water, it was all Harry could do to keep himself upright. Minutes seemed to drag on as the blast soaked Harry from head to toe, knocking his grimy glasses aside and scrubbing him thoroughly until he was free of any dirt. Harry could have sworn one of them was smiling as they cleansed his body, as if enjoying his discomfort. 

 

Eventually, the water stopped flowing, and Harry coughed harshly from the onslaught of water. He shivered again, more violently this time, as the room had not increased its temperature in the slightest. Harry could barely make out the figures drawing their wands once more, and a gust of air washed over him, ruffling his unruly hair and drying his still-naked body. Harry’s skin tingled unpleasantly once the process was completed; his whole body felt sore and raw despite being free of any traces of dirt. 

 

The two figures that had harshly bathed Harry moved back to their places at either side the room around him and the third one, the one who had burnt his clothes, stepped forward, kneeling in front of him. In their hand they held his wand and glasses, which Harry none too gently snatched from their grasp. When they instructed him to offer up his wand willingly to Lord Riddle, Harry had half a mind to break it then and there. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t replace it, after all. Instead, he sighed sullenly, holding the object awkwardly, as there was nowhere for him to store it. 

 

A murmur of voices could be heard softly behind him, and Harry turned to see a granite archway appearing out of nowhere. Harry swallowed, unsure what the next step of the ceremony was. He had just arrived and was already more tired and on edge than he had been in weeks.

 

Xx

 

The chamber that lay beyond the archway was expansive. The arching ceiling soared up above them in dazzling spirals of silver and white, dreamy designs that seemed to arise straight from the subconscious mind. The crowd of people that stood among the marble white of the floors seemed to be preoccupied with their own conversations. They chatted in low voices amongst themselves, entirely ignoring their surroundings. A trio of individuals stood out to the front, apart from the rest, Tom and two other striking looking companions.

 

The man to Tom’s right was nearly as tall as the Vampire Lord himself. His deep, wine colored hair and smartly trimmed goatee seemed to sharpen his general features. Yet, there was something within his eyes that remained surprisingly soft. On the other side of Tom, stood a slender woman who sported a shock of black curly hair, and seemed quite dismayed as she continued speaking with Tom. 

 

Tom spotted Harry at the back of the room in a matter of seconds. With a subtle gesture of his hand, the entire room went silent. They glanced up to their lordship and then, directly to Harry.

_ The boy is prepared. Good, good, _ Tom reflected, his eyes lingering on the wand in Harry’s hand and then locking on to those brilliant eyes once again. He gestured for Harry to enter, and without hesitation, the entire congregation of vampires parted to allow him through. Tom realized that it must be quite strange to see the vampire forces at least partially revealed. The Colombina style masks that most of his inner circle were sporting revealed the lower half of their faces, which was a stark contrast from their usual, full Volto or Arlecchino styles.

 

Tom required no mask. He was the lordship, after all.

 

“Oh, look at him.” The man to Tom’s side cooed, barely covering a smile of excitement. “He’s adorable. What an absolute delight! I can’t wait to see him once you’ve  _ finished _ .”

 

“He barely looks able to feed himself, my lord. Can you possibly expect him to support your needs?” The woman murmured, giving Harry a piercing glare all the while. “I must implore you to rethink this…” She hissed.

 

Tom completely ignored both of his consorts, waiting for Harry to finally make his entrance.

 

Xx

 

Walking through the archway, Harry stopped in his tracks at the edge of the chamber that lay before him, shifting nervously. The chamber was glamorous, and suited the vampire lord in its sophisticated and aristocratic air, with its arched ceiling and beautiful designs in elegant shades of white and grey. However, it wasn’t the aesthetic appeal of the room that made Harry pause. Rather, it was the fact that the room seemed to be filled with other masked creatures, talking and socializing amongst themselves. Harry spotted Lord Riddle across the room with two other creatures that were pleasing on the eyes, although not nearly as much as the vampire lord. 

Lord Riddle seemed to have sensed Harry standing there, as the room suddenly fell deadly silent and all eyes turned to the young man in the back. Harry shifted again, feeling uncomfortable under the gaze of so many while in a state of undress. 

 

The creature motioned for Harry to step forward into the room and join him. Immediately, as if on the same train of thought as their master, the crowd parted, giving Harry a clear path to the vampire lord. He walked nervously, heart thumping furiously in his chest with each step. Despite the fact that their eyes were covered by their masks, Harry still refused to look at anything but the floor as he made his way to Lord Riddle. He could hear Lord Riddle’s companions voicing their thoughts as he approached, causing his face to burn red at their comments, partially out of embarrassment, partially out of shame. 

 

His fist tightened in an attempt to steel himself for whatever the next phase of this ceremony was, trying to ignore the words of the others. It was then that he remembered that he was holding his wand. “Oh, right,” Harry said, lifting the object up and pointing it at Lord Riddle. “I was told I was supposed to give this to you.”

 

He tried to make it seem like he knew what he was doing as much as he could as he stood in front of Lord Riddle and his various companions, despite have no idea what was going on. But these were the last sort of people he wanted to seem weak against. He had no reason to put on airs in front of this crowd, but he didn’t want them to think that he was useless or cowardly without his friends and colleagues. Not that it would really matter in the end, as Lord Riddle seemed to apparently know every aspect of his personality prior to meeting with him in person. There was no telling how much of that information he could have shared with his coven.

 

“Now, can I please get some clothes? Your coven members kind of burnt mine and I’d rather not walk around stark naked, thank you.”

 

Xx

 

It was quite a sight, Tom had to admit. Seeing the rather slender boy enter and attract the attention of the entire inner circle of his vampire coven was a feat beyond he had seen in quite some time. Finding such a vibrant, powerful little mortal was very rare, but still, seeing the elders of his coven stare at him in amazement was quite a feat for the young lad. Harry’s annoyance was apparent form the look of sheer discomfort on his face. On the bright side, he was a great deal more clean than he had been about ten minutes ago. His welcoming group had certainly been rigorous in the execution of their job.

 

They watched the young boy, assessing his movements, his physique with a clinical air. Some nodded in approval, while others stayed deathly still, afraid of seeming to be swayed in either way. 

 

There was a deathly chill in the feel of the room when Harry pointed his wand at the vampire lord. Every single eye was pointed on the young man, as if afraid to even think of breaking the silence. All the while, Tom looked down at Harry, his wine red eyes focused and expectant. He held out his hand to the young man and waited for him to place the wand there in his outstretched palm. His collected expression revealed absolutely nothing as he spoke.

 

“With the surrender of your wand, you give your magic over to me. Your will is now mine to control.” Tom said delicately, his words barely above a whisper, and yet in the midst of the crowded room, it seemed to be almost a proclamation. Even his two consorts in the back seemed too entranced to even think of interrupting.

 

_ Bow to me _ , Tom exerted his will over the boy, letting the words wash over his mind before the magic pulled at his knees and his torso, forcing them to bend and sink to the floor.

 

Xx

 

Harry stared at the vampire lord unflinchingly as he held the wand aloft, pointing directly at the taller man. Chin held high, eyes locked on Riddle’s red ones, he ignored the stares of the coven members in the vicinity. It was a bold move, to point the wand as he offered it rather than merely handing it over as expected, but the action was faithful to Harry’s character. He knew what he was doing. He may be entering this partnership willingly, but he still did not trust the vampire lord and wished to make that painfully clear. 

 

The silence that filled the room was deafening. No one dared speak or make any movement, eyes glued to the scene in front of them. After a few moments, Harry slowly lowered his wand, placing it in Riddle’s outstretched hand. It was then that Riddle spoke, his whispered words resonating around the room as if a declaration to everyone present, even though the words were meant only for Harry. Harry’s grip on the wand tightened for a moment before releasing the wand and withdrawing his hand. 

 

The moment he pulled back, Riddle’s voice echoed in his mind, washing over it and ordering him to bow to the vampire lord. Harry couldn’t even stop himself or make any attempt to refuse before he felt an unfamiliar magic pulling at his body, forcing his knees to the ground as his mind completely emptied of everything except pure obedience. His chest nearly touched his thighs as he bent in half, bowing deeply in submission to the creature who now owned every part of him. He swallowed thickly, eyes wide and staring down at the floor as he tried to process what just happened. This didn’t feel right to him, but at the same time, nothing felt more natural than to be bowing before the vampire lord. 

 

Some of the coven members began to softly chitter amongst themselves under their breath as they watched the scene unfold in front of them, their amusement barely veiled from behind their masks. The boy was foolishly brave, but clearly no match for their lord. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. 

 

Xx

 

Tom knew that in time, that the boy would bow down to his will. If Harry had insisted on continuing to fight against his only active part in this ceremony, Tom would have had to take drastic measures to subdue the boy. Thankfully, he had a bit more sense than continuing a fruitlessly idiotic effort. The handing over of his wand was far more symbolic than anything his words may imply. On principle, Tom had enough power to control the young man, but he could no more control his will than he could have before the ceremony began.

 

Tom took a moment to let the crowd murmur in delight at the display. Truly, this particular part was only for their eyes, so that they could finally be convinced of Tom’s decision. As apprehensive as Bella had been only moments before, Tom could only hear silence in her direction now. He hoped that this would be enough to suffice for the rest of the congregation, because the rest of this union needed to be done in privacy. The linking of minds was no easy work, after all.

 

Tom waited only a beat longer before he stepped into action. In one fluid motion, Tom removed his cloak and stooped down to drape it around Harry’s shoulders. He withdrew the mental demand on the boy to bow before him, letting his thoughts ease back into a sense of normalcy.  _ Only a short while longer _ , he soothed, trying to calm Harry’s dissonant thoughts. The boy seemed to be a maelstrom of confusion, pulled between his pride and his controlled will and his need to defend his friends from danger.

 

“Stand.” He murmured to Harry, nodding minutely in approval as he pulled the boy to his feet and turned him to face the entirety of the crowd. “The mortal has accepted my terms and now becomes my responsibility and possession.” The murmur of approval that rippled through the audience grew to what might be considered a ‘cheer’ of affirmation. The monumental victory meant that there was one less opposing side to deal with in their continuing battle to take complete control. Silence fell with one single glance from their precious lordship.

 

“Leave us.” Tom’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it needed no extra volume. The entire room began to clear out, heading for the nearest doors in what might have been considered an orderly fashion (perhaps with a bit of extra flourish, considering that most of those congregated were wearing rather ornate outfits). Bella seemed to linger on the edges of the crowd, trying to catch Tom’s eye. He gave her a subtle shake of his head and she turned to leave beside their companion without a second glance.

 

Xx

 

Despite what others may have thought, Harry was not an idiot. He knew which battles to fight, and when to refrain from wasting his energy. This was one of those times. First of all, he was alone in a room of enemies. If he fought, he had no possible way of winning in any way, shape, or form. He wouldn’t achieve even the smallest victory in this situation. Secondly, he was the one who came willingly. Fighting would not only contradict his earlier actions, but likely put his friends in danger. He would have to see this through until the end, whether he liked it or not. 

 

Still, even when Riddle withdrew the mental command, his heart continued to beat wildly in his chest as he continued to kneel harmlessly in front of the vampire lord, his mind still trying to process and reason what was going on. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, and was fighting desperately against his instincts to make an attempt to break free of the hold Riddle seemed to have on him. He didn’t want to be the vampire’s puppet. But his friends. He needed to protect his friends. That was the only thing that mattered. He had to remember why he was doing this, why he was going along with Riddle’s plans. It was all for his friends. It seemed that Riddle could sense his distress, as he was sending soothing thoughts to Harry’s mind in an attempt to calm the storm of confusion raging inside of the young man. Harry forced himself to relax as Riddle removed his cloak, draping it over Harry’s still-naked body.

Immediately afterwards, Harry was told to stand and was pulled to his feet beside the taller vampire. As Riddle turned him to face the crowd, he continued to keep him gaze downcast, not wanting to see the expressions of satisfaction on the faces of the coven members in the room. It did not stop him from hearing the murmur of approval that rippled through the room, however, and his face heated up slightly. 

 

Once the murmurs had finally died down, Riddle gave the command for everyone to leave. Harry continued to stare at the floor at his feet as the coven members exited the room. It wasn’t until the last of the footsteps faded from the room that Harry spoke again, looking slightly nervous at being left alone with the vampire lord. “What now?” He asked, raising his head and bracing himself for Riddle’s answer. 

 

Xx

 

When the room had finally emptied out completely, silence fell between them, heavy and thick as water. Tom let the sensation settle, assuring himself that none of his coven members would wander their way back into the room, trying to find some excuse to be in his presence for the full duration of the deeply ‘personal’ ceremony. It was imperative to Tom, purely on a opinion based level, that he be alone with Harry when they conduct the rest of the official binding. It was not meant for anyone else, after all. The power was only to be shared between the two of them.

 

And all of that power…Tom could almost feel it as his own, nearly within his grasp with the sweet taste of victory. With a wave of his wand, he placed a ward of silence to keep out unwanted ears and eyes from the proceedings.

 

Tom sighed in relief, seeming a bit more at ease now that the room had cleared out, leaving him alone with the young mortal. “The binding is only partially done. Most of all that was done for the sake of my coven. They like a good show, lots of symbolic meaning and a flair for the theatrical.  _ Vampires, am I right _ ? If they’re not contemplating immortality, they’re fixating on their own beauty.” Tom laughed, shaking his head knowingly. He enjoyed being a part of the group, but he was well aware of their proclivities. “The next steps will be the both the worst and the best. You’ll see what I mean shortly…” Tom trailed.

 

Tom gave the cloak around Harry’s shoulders a sharp tug, arranging it around his naked body and allowing the mortal a bit of dignity that he had been denied before surrendering his will. Taking his time, he slowly stepped around the boy, taking his his shorter stature, his wiry yet firm frame, the wide look of his eyes, caught somewhere between fear and reluctance. When he finally reached the front of the boy yet again, Tom was holding something long and thin in his right hand. It was not a wand, or was it a pen, yet by the pointed end of the instrument, there seemed to be the suggestion of the tip of a quill.

 

“Tilt your head back, Harry.” Tom murmured, lifting up the mortal’s chin to peer down at his exposed neck. “And try not to move. It will only prolong the inevitable.”

 

Xx

 

Harry couldn’t help but bristle at Riddle’s words. The way he so flippantly dismissed the actions that had occurred so far. He made it seem like Harry’s embarrassment and discomfort were to be nothing more than a fancy show for Riddle’s coven. His jaw clenched and his hand balled into a fist in indignation, nails digging into his palms. Still, he did not lash out with words nor actions, choosing instead to stew silently in his ire. Unlike Riddle’s newly relaxed and casual demeanor, Harry was tense and wound up, at least internally. 

 

Riddle then moved to arrange his cloak around Harry’s body, allowing him a shred more dignity than he had a few minutes ago with the coven present. For that, he was grateful. He still would have preferred actual clothing, but it was a start. 

 

As Riddle took in his scrawny, somewhat underdeveloped body, no doubt noting the swirling emotions reflected in his eyes, Harry’s thoughts took a different turn. Why was Riddle doing this? Why now, after so many years? He had faced off against Harry’s parents nearly eighteen years ago, and they had fallen to him. So why hadn’t the vampire lord taken him then? Why had he waited almost two decades to come for him? After all, Harry was by no means special. There was nothing remarkable about him beyond the fact that he had survived a vampire attack. And even then, that wasn’t something completely unheard of. It was rare, but Harry wasn’t the first and he knew that he wouldn’t be the last either. So what was it that Riddle wanted? 

 

Harry’s train of thought was interrupted when Riddle once again approached him from the front. There was something long and thin in his hands, and Harry couldn’t quite make out what it was. At first, he had thought it was a wand of some sort, but, looking closer, the tip seemed too narrow, too pointed to be something like that. It looked almost like the tip of a quill-like instrument. The fear in Harry’s eyes flickered to confusion for a fraction of a moment. Still, he kept his mouth shut, not daring to speak up and question the other man, no, creature. 

 

Riddle commanded him to tilt his head back, his voice no louder than a murmur. Harry had no choice but to comply, especially seeing as Riddle was already lifting up his chin. He swallowed hard and tried his best not to move as instructed. Whatever was coming next was going to hurt, and he wasn’t stupid enough to cause himself more pain than necessary. 

 

Xx

 

Such a fighting spirit! Harry was so full of fire that he his delicate little fists clenched in rage at Tom’s words. The vampire lord could not help the amused smile that spread across his face at this delightful show of vibrant mortal emotional. The boy’s anger bubbled just beneath the surface, bitten back as Harry kept himself from lashing out with a paper thin layer of self-control. 

 

Smart boy, Riddle remarked inwardly. Retaliating now would literally do him no good whatsoever. If anything, it would force Tom to defend himself and, in turn, cost him his life and their soon to be made contract. Tilting Harry’s head back revealed the entirety of his neck, from the base of his jaw all the way down to his collarbone. Harry’s skin was a vibrant mixture of brilliant colors, beautiful and tempting. He could almost see the blood pumping beneath that delicate layer of skin. The entire sight…it was exquisite. 

 

Riddle shook himself from his poetic reflections. This was certainly no time for pretty words or waxing poetic. Noticing their distinct difference in height, Riddle sighed in exasperation. “You’ll need a bit of assistance, I think.” He gestured smoothly with the hand not currently holding the sharpened instrument. Harry began to lift from the ground, hovering just a few inches above Riddle himself so that his neck was perfectly eye-level. 

 

Riddle drew close, a mere breath away from him now, and held Harry’s body stead with a firm grip on his shoulder. Raising the instrument he put the sharpened tip of the surface of his skin. With careful, precise motions, he began to trace the flowing shapes of runes across Harry’s skin, leaving a thin, shallow cut wherever the tip touched. As he continued this process, he knew that this would only be the beginning of the pain. The tip itself was a necessary tool in marking him in their connection, but it was the words that he inscribed that truly acted as the bond.

 

Xx

 

Riddle’s smile was not helping Harry’s bubbling ire, but he continued to restrain himself, if only just barely. If he lashed out in response to Riddle’s words, the only thing he would end up with would be a broken agreement and death for him and his friends. He had to continue holding fast to that remaining sliver of self-control. The more time he spent in Riddle’s presence, the harder that was proving to be. Everything about the vampire set Harry’s teeth on edge. 

 

The room went silent as Riddle continued to observe him, head tilted back, neck completely exposed and laid bare for the vampire lord. Harry tried his best not to swallow or even breathe, afraid that any movement would make things worse for him. His heartbeat quickened in combination of fear, barely contained rage, and the suspense of the unknown, pushing more blood through his body. He could feel the vampire’s crimson eyes tracing over the partially exposed veins in his neck, all pulsing with blood. 

 

The next thing he knew, Harry was drifting upwards until his throat was level with Riddle’s line of sight. Apparently Riddle found him to be too short; adding yet another reason for why the vampire irked him so much. He wasn’t short. In fact, he was about average for his age and only about half a foot shorter than Riddle. It wasn’t his fault that Riddle was so freakishly tall. Still he bit his tongue and held back his comment, instead waiting in agonizing silence for the vampire to get on with the ritual. He was cold, he was tired, and he was getting more irritated by the minute. The sooner they could get this ceremony done with, the better. 

 

And then, finally, Riddle moved. Though Harry could not see his actions, he could feel the tip of the quill-like instrument digging into his skin. It wasn’t too painful at first. Uncomfortable, yes, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It wasn’t until the cuts began to form runes and words that the pain set in. Harry’s eyes, having closed earlier to help him keep calm, flew open, wide and panicked. The pain licked across his skin like fire as Riddle carved the runes, hot and searing. It felt as if hot pokers were being dragged across his exposed neck with each shallow cut. Sweat began to form on his forehead and his breathing grew labored as he fought back the screams itching to rip themselves from his throat. It wasn’t the most painful thing he had ever experienced, but it was close. Very close. As Riddle continued to sketch the runes into his skin, Harry could feel a foreign bond begin to force its way into the fibers of his being.

 

Xx

 

The searing of the magic seemed to be taking effect earlier than Riddle had been hoping for. To have his magic working faster than usual was not typically a problem for the vampire lord, but in this case, overwhelming the boy could be the difference between life and death. He needed Harry alive at this moment; that much was clear. He knew the effects of this spell if it were to go awry, then the promise of their bond becomes entirely pointless. There was no controlling the Order with no Harry to hold under his control.

 

He did not want what happened  _ last time _ to happen once again. He was reaching the point at which he had failed on that fateful night, so long ago now. He would not let himself fail once again.

 

Tom could feel Harry’s muscles tighten as he fought against the searing pain, trying to keep control of himself. The effort was valiant, and Riddle would need for it to continue if they would complete this process to its entirety. Tom was careful with his script, careful with how much force he was putting into the tip of the quill, but even further, he was careful with his thoughts, and fiery flow of magic right through his fingertips. He could not allow things to run astray, not now that his plans had gotten this far.

 

He was approaching the back of Harry’s neck now, and inch by painstaking inch he made his way around, holding the boy steady and carving away the delicate collar on to Harry’s skin. When the swirling loop of runes was finally closed, as Riddle came to stand in front of Harry once again. He wasted no time. The magic between them was raging, burning, and he would need to connect it before it burned itself clean.

 

Lifting his own wrist, he pressed the sharp tip of the quill to the fragile skin. Dragging the pen along, he left a surprisingly deep cut for in instrument that seemed so delicate in nature. The blood that flowed forth appeared to be black, dripping like thick ink down Riddle’s pale skin. Either it was causing him no pain, or the vampire considered it beneath him to react because his face remained stoic. Holding his wrist up to Harry’s bare chest, he waited as the inky blood flowed on out, leaking on to Harry’s sternum. His brow creased in concentration as he lifted the quill one last time. Gently, he placed the point on to Harry’s skin, right at the point where the black blood had gathered. Magic pumped and pulsed through him. The blood swirled on the canvas of Harry’s chest, forming into a curved, graceful design. It followed along graceful arcs, adding in tiny, significant details until the desired design emerged from the chaos.

 

_ Two snakes entwined forming on the infinity symbol, a skull in the center. _

 

Riddle stepped back, surveying the new tattoo as he ran his fingertips along the cut on his own wrist, healing the wound gradually as he assessed the boy before him.

 

Xx

 

As Riddle made his way around Harry, carving a delicate collar of runes into his neck, Harry could feel the magic crackling between them, twisting and raging as it sought out an escape. Harry briefly wondered if he was going to drown in the intensity of the sensation. His body was tense as he did his best to tolerate the pain. With each moment Riddle spent carving into the delicate flesh of his throat, the pain dulled. It wasn’t that it no longer hurt, it was more that he was slowly growing numb to the pain. He didn’t even realize when Riddle had finished. 

 

Out of the corners of his eyes, Harry could see Riddle pull away from him. He watched to the best of his limited ability as the vampire used the thin instrument to cut deep into his wrist. For an object like that to make a cut that deep, it must have been a lot less fragile than he thought. He gulped as Riddle moved towards him again, holding his wrist up to allow the inky blood to flow onto Harry’s sternum. It was cold on his bare skin, but Harry didn’t have time to dwell on that notion because the quill was digging into his chest where most of the blood had pooled. Magic flowed into the tip of the quill, causing the blood to leap into action, swirling and arching until it achieved the desired design. 

 

Riddle stepped back, once again observing him. Harry was breathing heavily, his chest heaving. Was it over? 

 

His thoughts were tumbling over each other now, desperate to know how much longer this would drag on for. He wished he had paid better attention to the words of Hermione and his mentors. If only he had listened to them, maybe he would have been better prepared for this situation. Then again, no one could have possibly predicted this outcome. But who would have ever guessed that Lord Tom Riddle, the most feared vampire lord in all of England, murderer of Harry’s parents, would come to the young man without violent intentions, or that Harry would go with him willingly? Harry couldn’t quite believe it either. But the deed was done, the die had been cast. There was nothing to do but move forward. 

 

It seemed that this particular portion of the ceremony was complete. Harry hoped that there wouldn’t be too much more, or at least that the vampire wouldn’t be carving into his body any more after this. 

 

He was scared to see the marks the vampire lord had left on his skin, although he had a feeling that they would be revealed to him eventually, much to his chagrin. He couldn’t see the collar around his neck, but he could feel the magic pulsing in the runes, giving off a softly dimming glow. His chest, despite not being the part that was carved into felt achy and raw with the dark tattoo emblazoned on it, standing out vividly against his skin.  

 

Xx

 

Riddle withdrew his power and let Harry sink to the ground once again, no longer needing him to be hovering at the high he had been previously. This was the final step, the final glorious moment. Victory was so close he could almost taste it, and it lingered sweetly on the tongue. He could feel the binding pull of the runes which were carved into the boy’s neck, and the soft, promising glow of their power. He could feel Harry’s tired, panicked thoughts as if they were an undercurrent, an unsaid tirade full of regret, exhaustion and anxiousness. This is how his old enemy was finally defeated. This is how the great Lord Riddle drained the life from the Order.

 

“Poor Harry.” 

 

Riddle peered down at the boy, savoring the sight of him for the moment, tracing every feature of his face until it was inscribed into his memory. Innocent, afraid, alone. Riddle smiled slowly.

“Your intentions were so  _ good _ , Harry…” He continued, his voice smooth as silk as he took a few steps back, memorizing every detail once again. The way that Tom’s own cloak draped about his shoulders and pooled at his feet, the way that his messy hair stuck out at odd angles, as if it could not be contained, the way that those beautiful, wicked little runes glowed slightly to the heightened pulse of Harry’s heart.

 

“But, you never stopped to ask any questions, did you?” He whispered, his voice lingering in the air, soft and melodic. “Hardly even thought to do any of the research. I told you what typically happens to the human who is bound, did I not? ‘ _ The human who becomes a chalice evolves into a being that is beyond mere human to something far more perfect, more exquisite _ ’. Do you remember, Harry?” He recited, a smile on the edge of his tone. “Did you ever think to ask what the vampire would gain?” 

 

He paused, letting the tension that followed his words settle between them, letting the panic within the boy’s mind rise to a beautiful, dissonant crescendo. The torches which lit the brilliant, white room gradually began to dim. “By tying themselves to one source of fulfilling blood, a vampire who is bound to a chalice can achieve power likes of which the world has never seen. Harry, you have given me the key to defeating all of my enemies in one fell swoop, should the moment present itself. And even if my enemies choose to try to use that old, ancient power of ‘light’ and ‘love’ to stop me, I have your power running through my own veins to shield me from it.” Riddle explained simply, laying out Harry’s folly before him with the greatest of ease. “The Order cannot possibly stand against me. They would never dare to, not with you as my pretty little Chalice.” The shadows cast on Riddle’s face seemed to grow as the room darkened. The white teeth within his winsome smile seemed to glimmer as his eyes turned to a deep, blood red.

 

“I really should be thanking you, dear boy.“ He whispered as the last bits of light flickered and fought from being snuffed out. “You’ve handed me all the power I could dream of, and so much more. I should be so grateful for it, but truth be told…” he trailed, enjoying watching Harry’s brilliant, vivid green eyes behind the thick lenses of his glasses, waiting to see them widen with the fear. 

 

“I’m feeling  _ hungry _ .”

 

Xx

 

Riddle released him from where he was floating, and he dropped to the floor, falling to his knees. He took a moment to resituate himself, allow his breathing to return to normal as he ran his fingers over the carvings in his neck. There couldn’t be too much more to the ceremony, right? He was just ready for all of this to be over with. 

 

_ “Poor Harry.”  _

 

Harry’s head snapped up, eyes wild and confused as they met the vampire’s. The smile curving across Riddle’s lips sent chills through his spine. He opened his mouth to retort, but Riddle was already speaking again. His voice was smooth, his words sweet, if not taunting. The creature was messing with him. As he spoke, Harry could feel the dread setting in. He had messed up. He had walked into this completely blind, and now he was going to pay for what he did. His heartbeat quickened and he swallowed hard as Riddle continued. 

 

Harry could only stare at him as he revealed the truth behind their bond. By the time Riddle had outlined everything, Harry’s panicked eyes were as wide as saucers, reflecting nothing but pure terror. He had completely and utterly messed up. He thought he was protecting everyone, keeping them safe from the forces against them. How could he have been so oblivious? The vampire was a master manipulator, Harry had known that from the very beginning. And yet he had played right into his hands, giving everything over to the vampire without a second thought. He had made Lord Riddle the most powerful creature in all of England, and all because he was too thick to think of looking into the details of what a Chalice relationship entailed. No one could even come remotely close to the vampire’s power now that he had Harry as his ward. 

 

He knew exactly what Riddle was talking about when he spoke of the powers of ‘love’, and he was keen enough to come to the conclusion that this was it. This was the reason Riddle had sought him out after all this time. The reason why he had come to Harry with such a proposition. For his ‘love’. For the power of the ‘love’ shield his mother had placed on him with her sacrifice. For the power of the ‘love’ he had for his friends, and they him. As Dumbledore had once told him, the power of ‘love’ that he had was the most powerful magic of all. And Harry had just given Riddle access to it. The world was doomed. His friends were doomed. 

 

_ “I’m feeling hungry.” _

 

Harry’s fear turned to anger. The rage practically radiated off of the young man, crackling in the air. “You lied,” he growled, his voice low. “You said this would protect my friends. How are they supposed to be protected if YOU FUCKING ANNIHILATE THEM?!” His voice rose until he was screaming at the top of his lungs, echoing off the darkened walls around them. 

 

Xx

 

There were few times in life that Riddle could admit to feeling pleased. His life thus far had been a series of painful events, pitfalls, and struggles. He has been knocked down, and held back more times than he cared to remember and he had to claw, kick and bite his way back to the top again, every single time. Rarely, if ever, did his plans work out so seamlessly.

 

The terror of realization that was dawning on his young companion was telling enough that Riddle had won. There was no secret little plan, no trick card up his sleeve. The Order wasn’t about to drop in through the ceiling, and even if they did, there was very little that they could do to reverse what had been carved into the boy’s skin. Riddle looked on with a touch of pride as the runes blazed on Harry’s neck, demanding his immediate consummation of what had begun. The magic was as demanding and hungry as Riddle himself was.

 

“Oh, sweet boy. As per usual, you’ve entirely misunderstood. Of course I will protect your friends and family. I will be happy to do so because I now  _ own them _ .” Riddle replied, his calm voice sounding so unnerving next to Harry’s shrill screaming. In the low light of the room, his smile seemed almost gentle as he watched Harry squirm under the weight of the decision that he had just trapped himself within.

 

“I own everything that once belonged to you.” His eyes glowed that deep, wine red as they focused on their unblinkingly target. “I own you, Harry.” The lights finally winked out and the darkness filled in the gaps in its absence. All that was left of Tom’s handsome face was a set of gleaming red eyes and a brilliant, sharp smile.

 

With all the speed and power gained over years of experience, Tom lunged forward and in one smooth motion, he grabbed the slim boy, pulling him up off of his feet, and tilted his head backward. He paused, his fangs lingering directly above the exposed skin of the boy’s neck, savoring the taste of that fear lingering on his tongue, knowing the hopelessness and the pain ahead. He adored every second of the victory he had rightfully earned.

 

Tom sunk his teeth into Harry’s flesh. He remembered the smell and the taste of the blood in that first beat of a second, but soon found himself completely lost in the sensation. The sweetness of the taste overpowered him, and in that moment as he drank, he found his own self forgotten and a new one taking shape within his mind. He drank deeply, pulling the boy closer to him as one might cling to their beloved, trembling at the warmth that was flooding through him, banishing away all of the cold anger that had frozen him away from every other being before. He savored the taste, the sensation of it with every bit of life he siphoned away from Harry. The acceptance, the warmth, the adoration, all of it so fleeting and so filling that even Riddle found himself feeling lightheaded in the simplicity, and the glory of it. 

 

Xx

 

The entire room went dark as the last of the fading light flickered out, leaving only Tom’s sharp, Cheshire smile and piercing red eyes. Harry could feel his heart beating wildly, its frantic pounding filling his ears. He couldn’t see a damn thing, and it was both aggravating and nerve-wracking for him, not having any real idea of where the vampire was.    
  


And then he was being lifted off of his feet, head tilting back against his will.    
  


The pain was excruciating as sharp fangs finally pierced his neck. At least, it was at first. As Tom continued to drink, the pain slowly subsided into a dull ache. His eyes drooped a bit as a strange sort of calm washed over him, causing him to relax as Tom drew him closer to the point of intimacy. With an improved angle, he drank deeper still, siphoning life from the young human bit by bit. As he drank, Harry could feel the last pieces of the bond falling into place, the connection solidifying. 

Whereas Tom could feel warmth and love through the newly formed bond, Harry could only feel fear. It was a fear that was deeply rooted, formed by a lifetime of struggling for survival and a bitter refusal to give in. A fear that this time would end like the last, a fear that he would not come out on top. The sensation was bitterly cold, a stinging sort of feeling rushing through him, as if thousands of icy needles were pricking at every inch of his body. Harry wanted to push him away, but his limbs felt sluggish and heavy. Tom continued to drink. His eyes fluttered once before everything went black, falling into the sweet release of unconsciousness.

 

Xx

 

Somewhere in the back of Tom’s mind, he knew that he needed to stop. He felt the steady thrum of his ward’s heart quicken as Harry realized that resistance was futile, and then slow down as the draw of blood became too much to fight. It thundered in his mind as he drank in the warmth of Harry’s life, as he revelled in the acceptance and love that made him so addictively powerful. 

 

He tasted so deliciously sweet.

 

When the strong thrum of his living heart began to weaken and soften, Tom’s vision blurred. He felt the pull and demand to continue draining the boy, to finish the job, but with a grunt of effort, he forced himself to stop. Drawing himself away and carefully removing his sharp fangs from the boy’s delicate skin, he watched with a note of pride as the small, neat wounds healed in a matter of seconds. 

 

Riddle ran his fingertips over the healed skin, seeming to revel in the power that he had so graciously bestowed on his dear Chalice. Peering down at his own skin, he noted how it had taken on a lovely, healthy glow. Tom also noticed, with a victorious smirk, that he was as radiant as Harry’s was currently ashen. “Harry.” He murmured, giving the boy a slight shake. 

 

Harry didn’t respond.

 

“Wake up, boy.” Tom pressed, a touch more demanding this time. Harry still didn’t respond. His head bounced uselessly as Tom shook him. Tom’s eyes widened, the smile slipping from his sharp features in matter of a seconds. Pulling the young mortal close to himself yet again, his fingers darted quickly to his neck, but this time to check his pulse for a second time.

 

Faint, but still present.

 

Tom clutched the boy to himself, cursing softly at Harry’s blood for being so damned addictive,  _ this was entirely Harry’s fault _ . He rushed from the room, a grim sense of purpose lingering in his deep wine colored eyes. Harry’s life was imperative and he would not let something as foolish as blood loss be the end of this new endeavor. As he insisted before, Harry was now his to own and use as he saw fit to and he would not allow his possessions to be damaged so very easily.

 

Besides, this was only their glorious beginning. Tom couldn’t possibly let Harry leave him now when there was still so much of the world to conquer.


End file.
